


on this night (and in this light)

by jinnora (nonbeenarys)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M, Past Mai/Zuko (Avatar), and there is only one BED, and they were ROOMMATES, based on real life events bc my power went out two weeks ago, but i promise there is no sexual content, except i don't live with my crush :(, modern!AU, oh and its also a songfic, power outage au, switching POVs, there's no way of making fics that happen in the dark sound appropriate, they are both at uni but idk where, who am i except someone who combines aus, zukkanet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26222200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonbeenarys/pseuds/jinnora
Summary: After his breakup with Mai, Zuko moves in Sokka, who is an acquittance at best.  However, after living together for a few months, they both find themselves wanting something more than the friendship they have easily fallen into.  A power outage somehow changes everything.[Fic & title inspired by the song fallingforyou by The 1975 (which I HIGHLY recommend you listen to while reading for the ~vibe~)]
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 243
Collections: zukkanet event 01: song lyrics





	on this night (and in this light)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunnymygal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnymygal/gifts).



> this doubles as a fic for zukkanet and a gift for sunny, bc sunny gave me nearly every point of inspo for this fic. so sunny, if you're reading this, thank you :kermitlov:
> 
> POV's change at the // marks

If someone had told Sokka that things would end up like this, there was a good chance he would have still played his cards just the same. 

It wasn’t like Sokka was unaware of the risks of moving in with someone he found relatively attractive. But Sokka was both bisexual and obsessed with romance; he had enough knowledge of himself to build boundaries on the matter. Those indomitable truths, combined with the fact Sokka was in his school’s prestigious civil engineering program, meant he had to have a reliable space to study and relax. Picking roommates he could see himself falling in love with was simply not allowed. 

So, technically speaking, there was nothing wrong with Zuko being Sokka’s roommate. 

This was mainly because when they first met late in junior year through Aang, Zuko had been dating Mai. While Sokka did appreciate beauty—and there was lots of it in Zuko, from the sharp line of his jaw to the hints of gold his brown eyes gave away in the right lighting—Sokka definitely wasn’t a homewrecker. Plus, he hadn’t even known he could have been one; it wasn’t until Zuko’s relationship with Mai had ended and he was already moved into Sokka’s cramped apartment that Zuko casually slipped out that he had a rebound date with some guy planned. Sokka had almost spat out his coffee at the comment. 

“Is that okay?” Zuko had asked. “I just assumed since you’re bi—” 

“No, no,” Sokka waved off, clearing his throat. “Bisexuals unite, I guess. I just, uh, had absolutely no idea.” 

Zuko had just snickered. “So you’re a bi with a bad bidar then?” 

Later that night, Sokka had considered his options: throw his friend back out into the streets, or accept the fact he was going to have a crush on Zuko at some point, a crush he’d have to get over. 

He had picked the second, for generosity’s sake. And for the first few weeks of it, Sokka had been satisfied with that decision, because Zuko ended up having quite a few annoying habits tucked up his sleeves. He had a tendency of kicking shoes off anywhere near the front door, even though they had a perfectly usable shoe rack right next to it. “Why would I get one,” Sokka had seethed, “If I didn’t expect everyone who lives here to use it?” Zuko also liked to wash his hands in searing heat, which meant if Sokka used the sink after him, he’d unintentionally nearly scorch his hand off. Sokka had also realized Zuko had terrible coordination; Sokka’s apartment was already crammed to begin with, but he couldn’t remember another roommate of his who had managed to run into him as much, whether it be knocking his shoulders or kicking his shins or stepping on his feet. They had to create makeshift ice packs out of ziploc bags regularly. 

Yet Sokka had not minded. As long as Zuko continued to be unabashedly obnoxious about some things, maybe no feelings would develop at all. 

Of course, that wasn’t what had happened. Because even though Zuko’s virtues weren’t as loud as his vices, they had double the effect on Sokka’s heartbeat. It was the way that Sokka found Zuko humming quietly to himself while preparing the two of them dinner; the way that he had at least six kinds of laughter, all of which Sokka memorized the sound of, all of which he knew exactly how to cause; the way that Zuko took to writing messages in response to the sticky notes Sokka left himself on the fridge without a thought; the way that, until Zuko moved in, Sokka wouldn’t call the apartment “home,” just “my place.” Zuko had, unknowingly or not, carved himself into the paint on the walls, the tile in the kitchen. 

All of a sudden, Zuko was everywhere. In Sokka’s dreams, in his distracting thoughts, in his stuttering heartbeat.

Maybe Sokka wanted to push out the feelings he knew he would get, but Sokka hadn’t anticipated that would mean those feelings go from liveable to all-consuming, like a flame not dangerous until that one ember flies awry and everything else catches. 

Now, he was caught in the middle of everything, and there was absolutely no going back. 

For example, right then, as Sokka was studying for a final at the kitchen table, Zuko walked into the vicinity, hair tousled and face lined with pillow creases from a well-deserved morning of sleeping in, and Sokka swore his whole body ascended from his seat for a moment. 

“Good afternoon,” Zuko said as he made his way towards the mug cabinet. “I can’t say good morning because, ya know, it’s twelve fifteen. I can’t believe I slept that late.” 

Sokka allowed himself to keep looking for a dangerously long time, only because Zuko was looking away. “Weren’t you up until like five last night writing a paper? I thought I heard you walking around at some point.” 

“Yeah. Did I really wake you?” Zuko was still pouring his coffee; Sokka was still admiring him from afar. 

“No. I had a dream and woke up after it ended.” 

Sokka remembered it for a minute, before Zuko turned around, in case he needed to blush. The setting of it he didn’t know by name, but it felt familiar, in the way dreams sometimes do. It was a dock, which he sat on with Zuko pressing up against his side. The air was salty and cold, the kind with a bite to it. But Zuko was so warm next to him. Just like how Sokka had imagined him being all those times he wanted to reach out and bring their bodies close. 

They had kissed in it. That much, Sokka couldn’t forget. 

So, when Zuko asked, “Was it a good dream?” Sokka wanted to scoff. 

“Yeah. I uh… won the Olympics.” 

“In what event?” 

“Scootering?” 

Zuko let out a bright, satisfied laugh—laugh #3, Sokka’s brain categorized—as he sat down across from Sokka. 

“What?” Sokka shrugged. “It’s a dream. For all I know, in my head, there could be like bubble-blowing Olympics.” 

“Well, congratulations on your victory,” Zuko smiled. It was so warm and gentle, Sokka wanted to be under its gaze forever. 

Catching himself before he blushed, Sokka turned back to his work. His area was scattered— a laptop playing lecture recordings pushed back to make room for a notebook, a textbook, and random sheets of paper including his old quizzes and formula sheets and past exams. Highlighters were strewn across everything, like unreliable paperweights. 

“You look like you’re having a nice, relaxing morning,” Zuko observed. “When’s your final?”

“Tomorrow.” This meant that, in less than 24 hours, he’d be taking a comprehensive test in the class dubbed the most difficult in his major. Sokka tried not to think about that, though. 

Plus, the forecast had predicted thunderstorms were to hit the area, meaning studying by candlelight. That’s why Sokka had dragged himself out of bed on a Saturday at 7 AM. 

That, and because he was too busy thinking about his dream kiss with Zuko to sleep.

_Does he actually kiss like that?_

“Well, I really hope we don’t have a power outage then,” Zuko said. 

“Me neither.” 

“Well, shit, that reminds me: I have to do laundry. I don’t want to go to bed on dirty sheets just because the power says so.” 

“Protest the electrical grid. Fight the power, literally.” 

Zuko gave a beat of laughter that was half-annoyed, half-impressed. It was laugh #1, Sokka’s favorite. 

“Well, first, I have to eat something,” Zuko said. “Can’t rebel on an empty stomach.” 

“I made pancakes.” 

// 

When Zuko came back from putting his laundry in the communal machines, Sokka was already gone. 

He had said something incoherent earlier about needing a break, about how his back was bothering him from sitting for so long. Zuko, knowing Sokka well enough to understand he was talking to himself and not asking for advice, hadn’t said a word. But Sokka still framed it as if he was asking for Zuko’s opinion— a game Zuko was happy to participate in, since it always got Sokka off on tangents, making him twist his face in thought in the most adorable way. 

Zuko wasn’t smitten, not at all. 

He definitely didn’t loathe when Sokka was gone, whether it be off on a run, or in class, or with friends. He didn’t find himself fighting an instinct to reach over when Sokka was sitting near him, sliding their hands together. He also definitely didn’t have situations in which he could only look at Sokka through the corners of his eyes without getting flustered, like when Sokka was fresh out of the shower or was driving at night, the city lights illuminating his eyes as if they were two small-scale skies. There was another one of these situations, one Zuko knew was coming up shortly: Sokka coming back from a run. 

Maybe Zuko was smitten. But it wasn’t his fault; Zuko had no way of knowing he’d end up falling for his roommate. When he met Sokka, the guy always felt off, like a chair with one leg slightly shorter than the others. Sokka laughed at his own jokes, had odd subjects for conversation, and always gave the air that he somewhat disliked Zuko. 

To be fair, Zuko didn’t always give the greatest first impression. That was doubly true in the time Zuko met Sokka; back then, things with Mai had already gotten so tense, he was barely able to fake a smile. It was foolish, thinking he was ready to move in with someone. But he had adored Mai—her cunning wit, her reckless attitude, her coldness that made her difficult to crack—so thought, if it was going to work with anyone, it should have worked with her.

But, it hadn’t. And now, here he was in almost the exact same situation: in love with the person he was living with. The only difference is that Sokka had no idea.

Zuko was determined to make it stay that way. While Zuko considered both Mai and Sokka out of his league, Zuko had still dated Mai; there was nothing necessarily preventing Sokka from having feelings for Zuko now that they had warmed up to one another. But, even if Sokka did reciprocate, it didn’t matter, since Mai had made it clear that Zuko was too overwhelming to both live with and date at the same time. And, since Zuko was the overlap in both relationships, Sokka could easily slip into feeling the same way. 

So, Zuko decided to bury his feelings for Sokka. At first it was easy. He blamed his feelings on missing intimacy and Sokka being a convenient source of it. But, as he got over Mai, Zuko realized that his feelings for them were entirely separate; while Mai had given him affection based on how similar they were, Sokka gave him affection based on mutual understanding. 

Somehow, Sokka knew to always cook Zuko his favorite things for breakfast if he slept through the morning; this was why Sokka didn’t need to tell him he had made pancakes— Zuko already knew. Regularly, when Zuko said something in the middle of a conversation, Sokka would reply with some form of “that was exactly what I was thinking.” When Zuko told Sokka that he really just wanted to become an artist, Sokka never gave him the precautionary unstable career speech. In fact, he had said he would love to know more about art, but was better at understanding a building’s forces than he was at designing their architecture. And, when Sokka had cried for the first time in front of Zuko, Zuko hadn’t brought any attention to it except by holding Sokka’s shoulder, as if reminding him, “I’m right here if you need me.” Later, Sokka had stated how much he had appreciated the gesture, something Zuko did without a thought. 

Somehow, Zuko felt like Sokka was more of an old friend instead of a new one. While they got on each other’s nerves at first, the more they got comfortable, the more Zuko realized he was growing with Sokka, instead of just next to him. 

It was disgustingly sweet, but it seemed like everything he felt about Sokka fit some cliche.

Same as now, when, in Sokka’s absence, hours after he first woke up, Zuko found himself finally able to get some work done. He set up his things, consisting of an art history textbook, his laptop, and, most importantly, his coffee, across from Sokka’s on the table. He would need it to get enough motivation to finish his 15 page paper on pivotal figures in Chinese sculpture. 

Of course, it was right when Zuko got into his writing rhythm that all of the lights in the house shut off. 

To make matters worse, he realized he had forgotten to move his bedding from the washing machine to the dryer. That meant, as long as the power stayed off, he wasn’t going to have anything to sleep on. 

“Shit,” he swore to the near-darkness that surrounded him. Luckily, there was still a sliver of pink left in the sky; if anything, Zuko could just write on a notebook and save his laptop battery for when it was truly dark outside. 

But first, he took it upon himself to start collecting helpful items, knowing that Sokka was going to return from his run completely disoriented. There was an emergency stash of flashlights in a hutch near the kitchen, a collection of tea candles on Zuko’s desk, and huge but sickly-sweet scented Bath and Body Works candles underneath Sokka’s bed. Zuko noticed that there was a box of lava lamps stored under Sokka’s bed, which he had never noticed before. Brushing it off, Zuko left the room to scatter the candles around the house, then grabbed a lighter to keep close to him for when nighttime struck.

That was the scene Sokka walked into: Zuko, writing with his notebook against a window ledge like it was a desk, trying to capture the last glimmers of light, a lighter further down the ledge. Sokka started chuckling, the sound catching Zuko off guard. His notebook almost fell out of his hands. 

“You know, you really are just, so incredibly clever sometimes,” Sokka said. In the dimness, Zuko couldn’t make out the strands of Sokka’s hair that had fallen out of his ponytail from running, but Zuko could imagine them from his memory. 

“Well, I could write by candlelight,” Zuko mused, “but that would be a bit too on the nose for the art student aesthetic, don’t you think?” 

Sokka laughed again, but this time it was fuller, and Zuko was glad for the darkness and how it hid the blush on his cheeks.

What the darkness didn’t hide was how Sokka was soaking wet from the rain; Zuko could hear the water dripping off of his drenched clothing. 

“Shit! Sorry,” Zuko blurted out, immediately running to the bathroom to get a pile of towels for Sokka. When he came back to the living room he handed some over before using one to start mopping off the rainwater that had dripped from Sokka’s hair—which, for the record, was more unkempt than Zuko was used to. 

“Do you want a change of clothes or something?” Zuko asked, continuing his rambling. “Are you cold? I can make some tea. I have the lighter ready!” 

For the third time, Sokka laughed, and this one was the hysterical, clutching-of-the-stomach kind. 

“Zuko, I’m alright. I just ran through some rain. I’m not dying on you from hypothermia anytime soon.” 

Zuko nodded, but what he was really focusing on, again and again, was ‘I’m not dying on you.’ 

“The thing I could use, though,” Sokka continued, “Is a nice warm shower.” 

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to help with that,” Zuko deadpanned.

“Well, the lights are off, so what I’m thinking is you sit on the toilet while shining the flashlight in the shower vicinity, that way I don’t have to potentially slip trying to get all the sweat off of me. Plus, we can chat!” 

“Why can’t you just put the flashlight on the counter facing you—” Zuko cut himself off when remembering the box of lava lamps, when thinking more deeply about why Sokka didn’t just want light, but company. “Sokka, are you afraid of the dark?” 

“What! No I, uh, definitely not, not at all…” Sokka was looking away from Zuko now with a hand slipped behind his neck. He was so clearly nervous and Zuko couldn’t help finding the obviousness of it adorable. 

Zuko scoffed, but grabbed a flashlight off the table and walked towards the direction of the bathroom. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” 

“Thank you!” he heard Sokka shout from behind him. Zuko had a feeling he was going to regret this. He already had proven his inability to make good decisions when refusing to make himself move out of Sokka’s apartment after realizing he liked him. Why Zuko felt the need to show himself up, he couldn’t understand. 

When Zuko got to the bathroom door, instead of going in, he passed it slightly so that he could lean against the wall next to the doorframe. He shone the flashlight in Sokka’s direction; it made it so that, when Sokka was in front of the door, his face was only half-illuminated. 

That didn’t stop Zuko from being able to recognize the confusion on Sokka’s face. “You know, you have to like, come in with me, right?” he asked Zuko. 

“Well, yes,” Zuko grumbled, “But you know there are things that you have to do before you get in the shower that I probably shouldn’t be there for.” 

_For the sake of my sanity, mainly,_ Zuko wanted to add. 

Sokka laughed; it was in a way that Zuko felt Sokka was laughing at himself. “Well, that’s a pretty good point, isn’t it? You wouldn’t want to see, uh,”—Sokka turned his face away from Zuko— “you know... that. So maybe, you could just keep shining the flashlight like this, and I’ll go in and once I’m actually in the shower, you can come into the bathroom.” 

“Sounds good.” Despite his words sounding assured, Zuko gulped down hard. 

Sokka smiled lightly before walking into the bathroom. Once he felt like Sokka was far enough away, Zuko immediately brought the heel of his hand to his forehead and let out a quiet sigh. 

_There isn’t anything in the world more stupid than standing in the bathroom when your crush who is also your roommate is showering,_ Zuko thought to himself. _Absolutely nothing in the world can compare to the dumbness of this._

//

“Wow…” Sokka mumbled to himself while folding his sweaty clothes. “You really outdid yourself this time, Sokka. Telling your crush that he could sit and talk with you while you take a shower. Wonderful idea. Brilliant!” 

“You alright Sokka?” Zuko called from the other side of the door, making Sokka nearly bump his head on the ledge of the sink.

“I’m fine! Ready in a sec!” he said to Zuko, then, to himself, “You have to be more quiet when you talk to yourself. Got it?” 

Once his t-shirt, running shorts, and socks were folded up in a neat, yet casual pile— “You don’t want him to think you’re a slob, but like, we’re working on a clock here”—Sokka hopped into the shower. He spent longer than usual making sure the curtain was stretched out as far as it could go. It didn’t quite reach the edge of the end of the shower; “That’s actually okay,” Sokka thought out loud, “Since we need somewhere for the light to go through anyways.” 

“Hey, uh, Zuko!” he called, more loudly this time. “I’m ready whenever you are.” 

There wasn’t a verbal response, just the opening and closing of the door and the dimness of the flashlight’s blocked beam. 

Sokka felt like this was the worst of any mistake he had ever made, but his skin had this weird mixture of dried rain and dried sweat on it, which would definitely give him the chills if he weren’t to take a shower. And he wasn’t going to do that in the dark, alone. 

So what he had a crush on Zuko? It wasn’t like Zuko felt the same. 

“Did you leave this gap with the shower curtain so I could shine the light through it?” Zuko asked. 

Sokka wanted to burst out into laughter; the longer they lived together, the more Sokka realized Zuko somehow naturally understood Sokka’s thought process. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Sokka smiled softly. 

The flashlight hit the far wall of the shower, making light reflect all over, bouncing off the porcelain. “Perfect,” Sokka said. “I’m going to start the shower now.” 

Sokka twisted the knob, sending a stream of warm water downwards. When it hit his skin he let out an involuntary groan at the feeling, which then turned into him nearly shrieking. Zuko had heard that groan. Most definitely he had. Which meant that seconds into this already harrowing situation, Sokka had already embarrassed himself. 

Or, at least, he thought he had. 

Because apparently, what Zuko actually found most interesting was Sokka’s shower-singing, which he found himself absent-mindedly doing in an effort to not moan again. 

“Sokka, are you singing?” Zuko called out. 

“Maybe…” 

The curtain was his friend again, saving Sokka’s blush from being known to the world. 

“Is it annoying?” Sokka asked. “Do you want me to stop?”

All there was for a moment was the sound of running water. 

Then, “No.” Sokka’s blush intensified, burning hotter than the water he stood under. “It sounds nice, actually. How did I not know that you’re a good singer?” 

“Broadway refuses to book me,” Sokka responded back quickly. He heard Zuko give his scoff-laugh and it’s all normal again, manageable again. It was through throwing out witty one-liners and diversions to compliments that Sokka had been able to survive living with Zuko for so long while being absolutely mad for him.

Sokka started singing again. It was to fill the silence that had fallen after his remark; because, God forbid that Sokka would sing simply because he now knew Zuko liked it. That would have been toeing the line. Friends don’t serenade friends.

Friends also don’t usually follow each other into their bathroom, just to provide a light during a shower in the middle of a blackout. 

So maybe he and Zuko weren’t exactly the typical friend pair. But Zuko had shown no signs of liking Sokka, whereas Sokka felt as though he had shown every sign, from blushing to nervous rambling to quick switches of topic if the conversation got too soft. If Zuko hadn’t done anything yet, he was either dumb—which he was not—or uninterested—which, he probably was.

Sokka turned off the shower.

Zuko spoke first. “So, uh, I’m guessing we just do the same kind of thing as you leave? I go out in the hall and give you light while you dry off?” 

“Exactly,” Sokka responded, tweaking his tone so it was all chipper, no sadness.

“I’ll let you know when I’m out,” Zuko said. The falling of footsteps followed until he called out, “You’re good.” 

After Sokka had dried himself off, he went into the hall, old clothes balled up in one hand while his other kept up the towel hung around his waist. Zuko was leaning against the wall in the exact same way as he had been before Sokka went inside the bathroom, but his face was turned towards the spot right in front of the door jamb. As if he was waiting to see Sokka. 

Zuko’s eyes seemed to flicker more than usual, as if there were stars in them. It wasn’t like he had never seen Sokka fresh out of the shower before. Maybe, it was that Zuko had never been expected to wait for him after, though there were plenty of times—almost every time, really—Sokka had chosen to shower simply so he’d run into Zuko after, chest bare and glistening. 

Usually, Zuko would scoff, telling him to put on a shirt. Something must have changed between them during that flashlight-shower situation. But, whatever it was, neither of them was admitting to it. 

“Um, want me to lead you to your room?” Zuko asked. His voice was rougher than usual and Sokka didn’t want to think about that for too long. 

Sokka gave a small nod. “Yeah.”

The walk over was silent, as was their falling into their positions. Zuko was leaning with his back against the wall again as Sokka walked through the door. He threw his clothes in a hamper near his door, then dug around to find some sweats and a hoodie that he, for some reason, couldn’t help imagining Zuko wearing. 

He had to take a calming breath before he walked into the hallway. 

“Let’s order in,” he said quickly. “Pizza sound okay?” 

//

As Zuko struggled to write by candlelight, needing to constantly shift his hand so the shadow of it wasn’t blocking where the next line was, he became angry that he spent the last precious minutes of dusk sunlight on making sure Sokka showered safely. 

Except, of course, he couldn’t be too angry about it. 

Zuko found that the feeling was quite representative of the state he had been in for the past few months of his life: angry at himself for wanting to be with Sokka, but constantly forced to see him at his most beautiful angles. There was Sokka when he was cooking for them both, Sokka when he was focused on studying, Sokka when he was laughing at something Zuko said. Sokka when he sang in the shower. 

Truly, this couldn’t be his fault. Blaming Zuko for having fallen in love with Sokka was like blaming the planets for rotating around the sun. It just fell in his lap one day, all of this affection, without asking him first if he even wanted to be in love again. It just happened and kept happening everyday, without fail, over and over again. 

If Zuko wasn’t so afraid of everything, maybe he would have kissed Sokka by now. 

But Sokka was busy trying to figure out how to study for his final without electricity—he had sent out a plea for an extension but was still awaiting a response—so it would be rude for Zuko force him into a vulnerable conversation, even though it was obvious something had shifted after Sokka had walked out of the bathroom. Zuko had felt so willing in that moment, so brave, so ready to just tell Sokka what he felt. 

And Sokka looked like he might have leaned into it. 

But it wasn’t fair, Zuko kept reminding himself. It wasn’t fair. 

Neither was the fact his laundry was still in the washing machine. 

“Hey, uh Sokka,” Zuko said, looking up at Sokka. If he didn’t ask now, he might never have the guts to bring it up again, once Sokka was so impossibly tired Zuko would probably be forced to carry him to bed.

“Hmm?” Sokka responded without letting his eyes leave his work. 

“I was washing my sheets when the power went out, so now they’re locked in the communal machines and I can’t use them until the power is restored, so, um—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sokka waved off. “I have no issue taking the couch if you want to steal my bed.” 

“No, I was actually thinking that we should just share your bed.” 

Sokka finally glanced up, meeting Zuko’s eyes. Zuko hoped to God his blush was hidden from the dimness around them. 

“You’d have me to sleep with,” Zuko explained, “since I know you’re scared of the dark.” 

What was a look of part confusion, part shock on Sokka’s face melted into a soft smile. “Yeah, that’s actually a really good idea. I guess we just both climb in when we’re ready.” 

“Actually, I think we should climb in when I say so, which is now.” Zuko turned over his phone, which was at 11%—Sokka’s had the battery-pack charger attached to for obvious reasons—to find it was 11:26 PM. “It’s almost eleven-thirty and you have this huge test tomorrow. You need to get some rest.” 

“I _need_ to get an A,” Sokka shot back. 

Zuko didn’t get frustrated with Sokka’s response. Instead, he felt sad: how could Sokka possibly be doubting himself? There was no one he knew that was as smart or inventive or adaptable. If Zuko had to bet all of his money on who’d come out with the highest score on the test, he’d spend it all on Sokka, and expect to come back a rich man. 

Out of some instinct, Zuko knew demanding Sokka to listen to him was only going to end in a fight. He didn’t need encouragement, either; Zuko had seen Sokka take care of himself well over the past months, so Zuko knew he had it in him when he wanted to be. What Sokka needed was an excuse. 

So Zuko said, “I have a question. Which are you more afraid of: not getting an A on this test or the dark?” 

When Sokka mused over his answer, Zuko already knew it was working. Because if Zuko left to go to bed now, Sokka would be left alone, making staying up to study redundant if there wasn’t anyone to protect him from whatever monsters Sokka’s mind made up. 

Sokka’s eyebrow arched high. “You’re really using my fear of the dark to get me to take care of myself?” he challenged, like it was some grand moral issue, instead of Zuko revealing his undying affection to Sokka in the least traceable of ways. 

“Yup,” Zuko smirked. 

A moment later, Sokka sighed, and that’s when Zuko knew it was over. “If I get a bad grade on this test,” he said while getting up out of his chair, “it is entirely your fault.” 

“And if you do well?” 

“Definitely will be because of me.” 

“Hey!” Zuko protested. “What if you do so well because you didn’t pull an all-nighter the night before?” 

“Hmm… seems unlikely.” 

Despite the words of disagreement, Sokka easily followed Zuko through the house, without anything but his empty phrases to vouch for his need to stay awake. Since Zuko had spent the whole day in his pj’s, they went right back to the bathroom to take turns brushing teeth. While one brushed, the other rambled. Sokka talked about dynamic systems modeling. Zuko talked about how excited he was for his Chinese sculpture class to finally fucking end. 

When they finally got to Sokka’s bed, after placing their phones on his bedside table, they both froze. There was some kind of shared and silent reluctance for them to look at one another. It was as if they were both silently mapping out how to make their bodies fit without it crossing yet another line.

Zuko was, honestly, just trying to not blush so much that the heat radiating off of his skin became noticeable. 

He wasn’t surprised when Sokka stuck his claim first, as it was his bed. “I’ll take closest to the wall, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course,” Zuko replied. 

Zuko waited until Sokka was laying on his back to climb on and suddenly, it hit him. The domesticity of it. Sure, they had been living next to each other, but not like this, not with one another. Zuko could feel Sokka’s weight shifting around the mattress. And if he just dared to reach out, his courage would be met with Sokka’s body. 

They both laid on their backs. Zuko was massively uncomfortable, but didn’t know how to do anything but follow Sokka’s lead in this situation. He preferred to sleep on his left side, meaning he’d be facing Sokka, and if Sokka rolled around—it could all become a lot, very quickly. Everything he had always been waiting for. 

_The priority here is Sokka getting sleep,_ Zuko kept reminding himself. 

Eventually, they both adjusted, once the concept of what they were doing was more comfortable in their bodies. Sokka turned towards the wall. Zuko turned away. He kept his breathing as even as possible, hoping to hear Sokka’s snoring—if he did snore—above it. 

Lots of time passed. No snoring came. 

Zuko was about to take that as a means to believe Sokka was asleep and just not a snorer until, out of the blue, Sokka’s voice quietly asked, “Hey, uh, can I ask you something?” 

His heartbeat started quickening. _What could Sokka possibly have to say to me right now, if not that he’s totally figured me out?_ Zuko thought to himself. 

But aloud, Zuko said, “Yeah. What’s up?” 

He heard Sokka exhale before continuing to speak. “Can you, maybe, uh, cuddle me just a bit? I don’t know if that’s a weird request but that might get me to sleep faster.” 

The request short-circuited Zuko’s brain. It took him an embarrassingly long time just to say, “sure.” And it was such a breathless agreement, so audibly overwhelmed. 

Zuko cleared his throat to try and scrape at the few pieces of dignity he had left. “Does that mean, uh, you want to be the little spoon?” 

“Yes,” Sokka blurted out, then, “Please.” 

Despite the stress of the situation, Zuko found it in himself to let out a small laugh as he turned on his side and scooted towards Sokka. Quickly, anxiety took over; he had never cuddled Sokka before, what if it was awkward and wrong and their bodies just didn’t fit together? 

But as suddenly as it came, it was absolved. When Zuko moved his left arm to weave it underneath Sokka, Sokka understood the motion immediately, lifting his body just enough so Zuko could slip his arm between it and the bedsheets. When Zuko bent his knees when pressing his chest to Sokka, Sokka separated his legs slightly, allowing Zuko to slot his between Sokka’s with ease. When Zuko pressed his face up against the back of Sokka’s neck, Sokka bent it downwards, as if moving into the sensation. 

Zuko felt like his very soul was being kissed by the sun. He was so warm and relaxed, which was surprising, considering the fact his body was flush against his crush. Shouldn’t his heart have been racing? Why wasn’t he having difficulty breathing? 

At that moment, his right arm was tugged forwards by Sokka, who must have needed that proximity in order to slot his fingers through Zuko’s, because that’s what he did next. Then, he squeezed Zuko’s hand gently. It was some wordless form of gratitude, of intimacy.

Zuko’s heart caught in his throat. 

He felt Sokka exhale deeply under him and, because of it, let out a small sigh. 

If they were dating right then, Zuko might have taken that as permission to show his own affection. Maybe he’d lean his lips forwards and press them against the back of Sokka’s neck. He didn’t want to be “just friends” anymore; he wanted to kiss Sokka’s neck. It was right there. 

But he didn’t. 

Sokka sighed happily again. “You’re great at cuddling, you know that?” His voice was sleepy, far off. Zuko’s heartbeat stuttered at the sound. 

“Thanks,” Zuko mumbled into Sokka’s skin. And, if he felt it right, Zuko swore that Sokka shuddered underneath him from the sensation. 

“Should have started this a long time ago.”

Zuko smiled, wondering if Sokka could feel his grin against his neck. “It is quite nice, isn’t it?” 

Once again, Sokka squeezed his hand, which Zuko meant to mean, “yes.”

Then, out of the blue, “Have you ever thought about this before?” 

Zuko froze. He had to keep from using deep breaths to keep his tone casual; Sokka would feel all of them and it would be a dead giveaway.

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked. 

“I don’t know… like, have you ever just, seen my hand and been like, ‘wow, I wonder what it would be like to hold that.”’ 

“I mean doesn’t everyone do that, just as a mind game, like thinking through imaginary scenarios?” 

Underneath him, Sokka laughed, the sound vibrating through Zuko’s body. “Hmm, I don’t think so,” Sokka teased. “That’s not why I do it.” 

Zuko felt his heart stop, his breath hitch, his eyes grow incredibly large. 

His voice, on the other hand, was small. “You’ve… you’ve thought about holding my hand? Before now?” 

“‘Little bit,” Sokka yawned, as if this was the most casual conversation in the world. 

Then, because he couldn’t help himself, because it was Sokka, Zuko found himself saying, “I’ve thought about it, too. A lot.” 

Sokka let out a small, satisfied sigh. The kind that occurred while his lips were curling into a smile; _I think he’s smiling right now,_ Zuko realized in silence. He felt Sokka’s thumb begin rubbing circles on the palm of his hand. And Sokka’s neck, it was still right there, curved downwards, as if asking for a kiss. 

Zuko felt a familiar surge of confidence, the same feeling he had when Sokka had met him in the hallway. Everything seemed romantic. This felt possible. And most importantly, it felt like Sokka was prompting him to share, like he was more concerned with coaxing this truth out of Zuko than he was with trying to get to sleep. For the second time that day, Zuko found himself thinking, maybe Sokka does like me back.

Only this time, he acted on it. 

“Sokka,” Zuko said, “I’ve thought about it because I… I have feelings for you.” 

A short gasp sounded from the other side of Sokka’s body. “Really? I’m so— I like you too.” 

The widest of smiles broke across Zuko’s face. With this knowledge, with Sokka’s love, he felt invincible, yet strangely far away from the person he was holding, 

Underneath Zuko’s embrace, Sokka started rolling over. Zuko tucked his elbow into his torso so that he and Sokka could continue to hold hands as Sokka turned around. It made it so that once they were facing each other, all that separated their chests were their clasped hands. 

Zuko’s eyes locked with Sokka’s. In the darkness they were a more inkier shade of blue than usual, but they still flickered with light in a mix of playfulness and joy. Zuko had always imagined scenarios like this one—often late at night when he couldn’t fall asleep—where he’d tell Sokka about his feelings and Sokka would look at him like he was made out of stars. Now, it was happening. His skin burned from the affection, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sokka brought Zuko’s hand to his mouth and kissed one of his knuckles. 

Zuko felt like he could levitate off of the bed.

“Always wanted to do that,” Sokka muttered as he lowered their hands. “You've got pretty fingers.”

“Uh, thanks,” Zuko blushed. He wished he could come up with something better to say, but he wasn't prepared for Sokka to return his feelings, let alone compliment his hands.

After a moment, Zuko realized that his left arm—the one still underneath Sokka—was dangling in the open space of the bed uselessly. He adjusted it so he could reach Sokka’s back, then began moving his arm, which hesitated out of habit. _I can touch him now,_ Zuko realized. _I can love him now._

His arm softened, falling downwards, fingers pressing atop the shirt which clung to Sokka’s back. Instinctively, they began tracing up and down Sokka’s clothed spine. Sokka lowered their hands to their stomachs and pressed his forehead into Zuko’s chest in response. 

Zuko slotted his chin atop Sokka’s forehead. It felt so natural, so easy. Now that he had Sokka in his arms, Zuko couldn’t imagine how any fear was worth making him wait for this for so long. 

“I-” Zuko began, choking on his words. “I was afraid this would end up like last time.” 

“I understand.” As Sokka spoke, Zuko felt his breath through the fabric of his shirt; Sokka was so close Zuko could hear the words Sokka spoke in his own throat. “But I don’t think anyone ever made me feel this way. Don’t want to let you go.” 

Sokka buried his head deeper into Zuko’s chest, as if accentuating his point, and Zuko’s heart swelled.

 _Thank you_ didn’t feel like enough. _I don’t want to let you go, either,_ didn’t feel like enough. Nothing that Zuko’s blissed-out brain could conjure felt vast enough for the amount of gratitude he held for Sokka, how the simple act of him being slotted through Zuko’s body quelled his fears of never being loved again. 

_He wants to be with me,_ Zuko kept reminding himself, because it felt like a dream. 

“You should go to sleep, Sokka,” Zuko coaxed. “You need rest and I promise I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 

_Like there’s anywhere else I’d rather be._

“Mmm,” Sokka sighed. “Pinkie promise?”

“Pinkie promise.” 

Zuko felt more of Sokka’s weight fall into the bed. He waited for a little while, still stroking Sokka’s back, until he heard light snoring. Then, he let himself close his eyes and begin drifting off into a now-unnecessary dream.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a lot more active on tumblr over at [@jinnora!](https://jinnora.tumblr.com)


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